


The Lost and the Found

by TechnicolorVocab01



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Everyone Loves Natsume Takashi, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Madara is so done, Natori wants to do right by Natsume but it's hard, Natsume Takashi Protection Squad, Natsume is a part-time exorcist and a full-time therapist, Original Yokai Character, Past Child Abuse, Some Action, The Fujiwara's are basically saints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:21:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22870933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechnicolorVocab01/pseuds/TechnicolorVocab01
Summary: It’s not hard to imagine a world where Natsume’s gift had sent him down a different path; one that might have led him to where those missing children are now. If there’s something Natsume has learned, it’s that there’s nothing more vulnerable than a child all alone.But Natsume isn’t the same child he once was. And he’s not alone anymore.
Relationships: Fujiwara Touko & Natsume Takashi, Hiiragi & Natsume Takashi, Madara "Nyanko-sensei" & Natsume Takashi, Natori Shuuichi & Natsume Takashi
Comments: 25
Kudos: 368





	1. Chapter 1

When Natsume walks out of school, with a whining Nishimura and a long-suffering Kitamoto trailing a bit behind him, Natori is already there waiting. He looks exceptionally out of place among the groups of chattering high schoolers, wearing sunglasses worth more than Natsume wants to think about and standing confidently near the gates like he belongs there. Which he definitely  _ does not _ .

Natsume doesn’t realize he stopped walking until Nishimura collides with his back in a move that almost sends the both of them crashing to the ground.

“Seriously?” Kitamoto asks incredulously, pulling Nishimura back by the collar of his shirt. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“It’s not my fault! It was this guy stopping for no reason again,” Nishimura wheedles without heat, throwing an arm around Natsume’s shoulders and following his line of sight. “Who’s he, Natsume? Friend of yours?”

Natsume huffs in disbelief as Natori finally spots him and waves, sparkly, movie-star grin in place. Next to him, Hiiragi looks significantly less overjoyed, unbothered as a student walks through her right arm and shivers before continuing home with her friends.

Natsume mutters, “Yeah, something like that.” Louder, he adds, “I’ll see you guys later.”

Kitamoto gives him the side eye, but at least knows how to take the hint. He grabs Nishimura by the strap of his bag and walks off, Nishimura shouting back, “Don’t forget to meet us at the stream this weekend! I’ll teach you how to catch a fish yet!”

Natsume waves with a pleasant smile until they’ve turned the corner, then immediately lets the smile drop in favor of closing the distance between him and Natori as cautiously as possible. 

The last of the students are clearing out, so it’s essentially only the three of them there when Natsume finally greets him with a, “Hello, Natori, Hiiragi. What are you doing at my school?”

Natsume acknowledges that the question isn’t really necessary. He knows there’s only really one reason that Natori would seek him out like this. 

“Hello, Natsume,” Natori responds as Hiiragi gives a single nod in greeting. “It’s good to see you again. I’m sorry to just show up like this, but you’re kind of a hard kid to get a hold of.”

“Am I?” Natsume asks blandly. “Or maybe this is just urgent and you didn’t have time to call?”

Natori’s smile freezes in place just a bit, and Natsume immediately feels bad for being so blunt. He tries to soften it with, “Sorry, I just mean that I don’t see you too often.”  _ When there isn’t a yokai problem _ , he doesn’t add.

“No, no, please don’t apologize!” Natori squeezes the bridge of his nose, the sunglasses riding up slightly, and Natsume realizes that he looks  _ frazzled _ . For someone that always looks so put together, the signs are hard to see at first, but there are the smallest impression of dark circles under his eyes, and his hair is more windswept than usual like he’s been running his hands through it. Natsume’s heart squeezes in sympathy.

“What’s wrong?” Natsume asks. “Did something happen?” He looks to Hiiragi, but she’s even harder to read than usual, standing stiffly and mask tilted downwards.

“I’m… afraid so,” Natori answers, and he seems to weigh each word as they come out of his mouth. “Natsume, I’m going to be honest with you. I really didn’t want to come here today, and if you don’t want to listen to what I have to say, I truly understand. But I’ve hit a brick wall, and I could really use your help--”

“I’ll help you,” Natsume interrupts. He knows it’s rude, but listening to Natori sound so desperate just pulls at him in a way that  _ hurts _ . It’s the same hurt that he gets when the yokai come for their names, or when the kappa reaches out to him from the side of the road again, dried out and too far from the river to save itself. “Of course I’ll help.”

As Natsume looks up at him, Natori’s expression goes through a complex chain of changes before stopping on something like resignation, while Hiiragi sighs in a sad, longsuffering sort of way.

“You haven’t even heard what I need yet,” Natori mutters, almost to himself before saying louder. “Thank you, Natsume. We can go somewhere more private, if you’d like. There’s a lot to tell you.”

Natsume nods in agreement. As they’re leaving, Natori glances around and says with a hint of disapproval, “Where’s your little bodyguard? Isn’t he supposed to be watching over you all the time?”

Natsume looks around too, as if that would make Nyanko-sensei miraculously appear. He shrugs. “He’ll be back soon. He says my school reminds him of a mind-sucker yokai and bores him to death, so he doesn’t come with me sometimes. I think he’s dramatic.”

Natori’s lips purse, but Hiiragi steps up and says to him, “I can go fetch him. He won’t be difficult to find.” The second Natori approves, she disappears off in the direction of town. Since she’s smart, she’ll probably check the local food vendors first. 

Once she’s gone, Natori looks down to Natsume with a smile, then starts guiding him forward. “Don’t worry, she’ll find him. He shouldn’t have left in the first place.”

Natsume just shrugs again. “He does what he wants. And he’s a good bodyguard, mostly.”

Natori nods absentmindedly, but Natsume can tell he’s miles away. 

Natsume has a feeling this one is going to be interesting.

**oOo**

“I think a yokai has been targeting children in the next town over,” Natori explains as he leans his elbows forward on the wood of the picnic table between them. His tattoo skitters around his neck before rising to settle on his cheek, just under his eye. He’s replaced his sunglasses with his regular, clear lenses now that they’re away from anyone that might have recognized him.

Natsume winces. That would explain why Natori has been so high strung-- a case involving children would put anyone on edge.

“How do you know it’s a yokai?” Natsume asks. His hands fold and refold in his lap, restless.

“There’s an energy there,” Natori answers, making eye contact with Natsume like a teacher making sure a student is listening. Natsume finds it hard to hold his gaze. “It’s centered around a nearby forest, but any shikigami dolls I send to track it never come back. Three children between the ages of 8 and 14 have gone missing recently after running off. Depending on how old this yokai is, there could have been others before them.”

Natsume looks down at the tabletop, tracing the cracked, splintering wood with his eyes like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. 

Natori leans forward to get his attention again, and when Natsume glances up again, the man is more serious than Natsume’s ever seen him. 

“Can you see why I didn’t want to ask you?” Natori says, his reddish eyes intent behind his glasses.

“I can see why you had to,” Natsume not-answers. “What do you want me to do?”

Natori just looks at him for a moment that stretches. Natsume can’t help but think he said something wrong.

“I’m kind of in the dark here,” Natori finally answers. “I have no information on what this yokai is, what it wants, or how to stop it. My shiki have no ideas either. I haven’t even seen it yet. I was hoping that your shiki might have the information I need.”

Natsume tilts his head, considering. “Like I’ve said, I don’t have any shiki. But I can ask Nyanko-sensei when he gets here, and if not, then Hinoe or Misuzu might know.”

Appearing over Natori’s shoulder as if summoned, Hiiragi finally arrives, Nyanko-sensei in tow. 

“I see you’ve managed to be dragged into another one of this exorcist’s little projects, Natsume,” Nyanko-sensei says, nasally voice annoyed. His eyes glint a dangerous green in the sun when he glares at Natori. “You should learn to say ‘no’ every once in a while, brat. It’s my favorite word.”

Despite his supposed bad attitude, the cat hops up onto the table on Natsume’s side, settling in front of him like a fat, guarding sphinx. Hiiragi stands behind Natori, at his right shoulder, but her posture is exasperated, arms crossed and shoulders tense. Nyanko-sensei tends to have that effect.

“Natori was just telling me about a yokai that’s stealing kids in a nearby town. Do you know anything about it, Nyanko-sensei?” Natsume asks.

“There are plenty of yokai with a taste for human young.” Nyanko-sensei licks a paw and starts cleaning his ears. “You’d have to be more specific.”

“Must you say it like that?” Natsume mutters under his breath. Nyanko-sensei just points his nose in the air with a  _ hmph _ .

“All we know is that it takes children when they’re out near the forest alone at night,” Natori answers. “It’s relatively powerful, enough that there are no other yokai in that area. Almost like it has a hunting ground the others know better than to intrude on. Two of the kids’ parents didn’t report the children missing until days later, so we think that the yokai might have memory-related powers as well.”

Nyanko-sensei makes a thoughtful snorting noise. “Sounds to me like a typical Aobōzu, wandering around taking things that aren’t theirs. If you can manage to be there as a kid is getting taken, you could catch it. But when it’s not hunting it’ll be too well hidden for anyone to find. Aobōzu are little rats that scurry back into their holes when they’re done.”

Natori, who had been listening vigilantly the whole time, pinches his nose suddenly, as if he’s getting a headache. He murmurs softly, almost to himself, “We can’t keep track of every kid in that town, and the area of forest that this yokai operates in is vast. It could take months to catch it while it’s hunting.”

Hiiragi steps forward and places a gentle hand on his shoulder while Natori’s tattoo scurries back down the collar of his shirt.

Nyanko-sensei stands up, his job apparently done, saying to Natsume, “If that’s all, then you should get me some dango for my trouble on our way back. I demand payment.”

“ _ No _ ,” Natsume says. The whole tableau sort of freezes, looking at him with shock. Natsume’s cheeks heat. “I mean. That’s  _ not _ all. I can still help, Natori. Let me lure out the yokai. If we can manage to get it tonight, then no more kids will get hurt, right?”

“What?” Natori exclaims, eyes wide. Hiiragi has the air of someone watching an oncoming train collision, waiting for the inevitable. She’s the only one that doesn’t seem surprised.

“If I go with you and we set up a trap tonight to capture it, we can lure the yokai out without putting other kids in danger.”

While Natori seems temporarily speechless, a feat in and of itself, Nyanko-sensei gives Natsume a couple of swats on the head with an annoyed paw. 

“You stupid kid, why did I agree to become your bodyguard, huh? Do you  _ like _ putting yourself in danger, is that it? Why do you have to make my job so hard--?”

“Natsume,” Natori cuts in, leaning forward in a disturbingly earnest way. “I can’t ask you to risk yourself like that. If anything goes wrong… I don’t want you to end up hurt. You’ve already helped me enough.”

It’s not hard to imagine a world where Natsume’s gift had sent him down a different path; one that might have led him to where those missing children are now. If there’s something Natsume has learned, it’s that there’s nothing more vulnerable than a child all alone. 

But Natsume isn’t the same child he once was. And he’s not alone anymore.

“Natori, we both know this is the best chance there is to exorcise that yokai. And I  _ want _ to help. Let me do this.”

Natori deflates quickly under Natsume’s gaze, probably mostly because he  _ does _ already  know that there’s not really any other option. Either Natori waits around and attempts to catch the yokai next time it hunts down a kid, or he lets Natsume, who can see and is already skilled with handling yokai, assist him in setting a trap. Natsume can practically see the war happening behind Natori’s expression.

“Alright. Fine,” Natori answers, resigned. His expression sharpens when he continues, “But we do this  _ my _ way, understand? No surprises or running off or trying to compromise-- you lure in the yokai, then your job is  _ done _ and you stay behind me and let me take care of it. Okay?”

Natsume nods once, firmly. Nyanko-sensei makes a strained noise somewhere between a grumble and a grunt of frustration.

“When I told you that you should say ‘no’ more often, I didn’t mean to  _ me _ ,” Nyanko-sensei says, perturbed at the turn the conversation took, and probably by the fact that his evening is no longer free to drink sake and sleep like was no doubt his plan.

“Who else would I say it to?” Natsume responds mulishly. “If I didn’t refuse to buy you half of what you ask for, you’d make me broke.”

While Nyanko-sensei rambles at him in righteous indignation, Natsume sees Natori, who is looking at him with something like….wistfulness, or maybe regret. It’s something Natsume can’t quite pin down, and the lack of an answer makes Natsume uneasy.

It’s not the only thing that makes him uneasy.

**oOo**

Natsume calls Touko and let’s her know that he met an old friend after school, and ask if it would be alright if he spent the night with them.

“Oh, of course, Takashi,” she says, delighted. “It’s so nice to know that your old friends still keep in touch. Be careful and get good rest, okay? And don’t go letting that silly Nyankichi steal all your food.”

When Natsume hangs up, his heart feels heavy. For him, it’s never been difficult to bend the truth, not when it comes to matters of yokai. Keeping it a secret keeps others safe. It keeps  _ him  _ safe. But recently… it’s been harder. Natsume doesn’t really know how to feel about that.

Natori buys Natsume’s train ticket without giving him a chance to pay for himself, which Natsume tries not to sulk about. The man even pays the extra fare for Nyanko-sensei to ride with them, while Hiiragi goes ahead to set some things up.

It’s when they’re all settled in, Nyanko-sensei purring comfortably in Natsume’s lap as Natsume’s hands run gently along his short fur, that Natori absentmindedly questions, “What I don’t understand is why those children were outside so late at night. They’d surely be scared. What child isn’t afraid of the dark?”

Natsume thinks on that for a second, his hands not faltering in their slow strokes along Nyanko-sensei’s back. “Maybe those kids were afraid, but they were  _ more  _ scared of something else.”

Natori blinks from his place across the short aisle. The train chugs underneath their feet and the sun casts long shadows along his face. 

“What makes you think that?” he asks.

“In a child’s eyes, there’s nothing more scary than monsters in the dark,” Natsume muses. He traces the darker spot on his cat’s back. “So why would they risk those monsters, if there wasn’t something worse waiting for them in the light?”

Natori goes silent. Natsume doesn’t dare look up to see his expression.

The rest of the train ride is quiet.

**oOo**

“He is worried,” Hiiragi says, appearing next to Natsume as soundlessly as an autumn breeze. Natsume doesn’t jump, or even blink in surprise; it takes much more than that to startle him these days. 

“Why is that?” he just asks, voice soft. He shifts on the grass where he sits, leaning against the trunk of a tree; watching as Natori circles a park bench several feet away, setting up a ward. Nyanko-sensei has taken it upon himself to make sure “that exorcist doesn’t manage to botch something simple and almost get you eaten again.” The cat sits along the back of the bench, criticizing everything Natori does in that nasally, superior tone of voice he has. Natori looks ready to commit homicide.

“He is being a hypocrite,” Hiiragi answers, brutally blunt. She’s usually not one to condemn Natori of anything, and it’s enough for Natsume to stiffen in shock. She continues, “As much as he scolds you for getting involved in these matters and being reckless, he still allows you to be here when it suits him. He is being a hypocrite.”

“I asked to be here,” Natsume says.

“That shouldn’t matter,” Hiiragi answers. “Even though he is worried, and he  _ knows _ he is putting you at risk, he still follows through. You should at least ask for something, in return for your assistance.”

Natsume shrugs. “I don’t need anything. And helping the children in this town is worth it.”

Hiiragi goes silent again. They both watch Natsume’s yokai bodyguard and Hiiragi’s master squabble for a few quiet moments. The wind whistles through the leaves as the sun starts to set, casting the long, straight shadows of the trees across the small clearing.

“You  _ are  _ reckless,” Hiiragi says suddenly. Natsume looks up to her, and her mask is tilted down towards him as well. “You are reckless with yourself. Even a yokai knows that your heart is not something to open up with so easily.”

“That’s what I used to think, too,” Natsume responds thoughtfully. He thinks back to the days of sleeping in abandoned classrooms during lunch because he had nothing to eat again and no friends to share with. When he would visit shrines for hours into the cold night before forcing himself to go back to a house that was even colder. When he would rather risk an encounter with yokai in the forest before going back to harsh hands and scowling expressions towering over him, condemning him.

Then he thinks of weekends spent in the forest, not running from angry yokai, but fishing in the stream with Nishimura and Kitamoto; the day they taught him how to ride a bike, when he allowed himself to smile and laugh in a way he hadn’t in so long. Tanuma, quiet and so much like Natsume, someone who can understand better than anyone how it feels to see. Touko’s homemade lunches and gentle hands carding through his hair and warm smiles just for him. A home to go back to.

Natsume says, “But now, I think that the idea of being alone is worse. If all that it costs me is my heart, it will always be worth it.”

There’s a beat where neither of them speak. Then, Natsume jolts in surprise when a careful hand falls onto his head, patting gently. Hiiragi’s hand is cold, but the feeling that fills up Natsume’s chest is all warm. No more words are needed.

The sun sets.

**oOo**

“ _ All that you have to do is sit here _ ,” Natori had said, hours ago now. “ _ I set up a ward that should be powerful enough to keep out an Aobōzu away from you. We’ll wait until it’s close enough, then I’ll jump in and exorcize it. I’ll keep my shiki stationed around the perimeter of the clearing, and I’ll be close the whole time. You’ll be okay. _ ”

The night air is crisp and cool, and Natsume abruptly decides that he should have brought a coat as he shivers. It feels familiar, sitting in this calm little clearing, surrounded by trees tall enough to seem monstrous and waiting for the chill of a yokai’s attention to pin him in place. It reminds him of his childhood-- those cold, endless nights-- which is probably why Natsume isn’t nearly as nervous as he should be as he crosses his arms and rubs his hands along his upper sleeves to warm up.

Natsume hasn’t seen any sign of Natori or his shiki since they had first left him, but that doesn’t bother him. Natsume trusts that Natori wouldn’t risk letting this yokai get away again. And Madara would never leave Natsume, or the Book of Friends securely hidden in his bag, in danger like this.

There’s a whisper of wind through the grass in the clearing. A whisper of something else, too.

_ Child~ _

Natsume stiffens, glancing around. He knows that being out alone at night makes people hear things, but…

_ Child~ Why are you all alone?~ _

“Who’s there?” Natsume asks to the empty field.

_ My name is Hachishaku~ Why are you here alone, child?~ So sad… so alone… won’t you come to me?~ I’ll keep you safe~ _

Natsume shifts uneasily. There’s no sign of a yokai, or Natori and Nyanko-sensei. “B-but where are you? I can’t see you.”

_ I am here~  _ the voice says. It’s soft and feminine, echoing around him like it’s riding on the breeze. He can’t pinpoint a source. _ Just follow my voice, and it’ll lead you to me~ and I’ll keep you safe~ safe from everyone who seeks to harm you~ _

Something isn’t right. Nyanko-sensei said that Aobōzu snatch kids by force, and that they take the form of small trolls. The yokai still hasn’t shown itself, but Natsume is sure that what they’re dealing with is no Aobōzu. 

“What do you mean?” he asks. “No one wants to hurt me.”

_ It is alright, child~ _ Hachishaku says, sickly sweet.  _ You don’t need to lie to me~ I can see your marks~ the scars they have left on you, body and mind~ come to me, and they will never touch you again~ _

Natsume stands, and his trembling has little to do with the cold anymore. “You-- you can see my memories?” Natsume hears rustling from somewhere to his right, and the glint of glass in the moonlight. Natori must have realized something was wrong.

_ Not quite~ _ the voice whispers, but this time it’s directly in his ear, like someone is leaning over his shoulder behind him. It’s sharp and warm and  _ close _ , and Natsume jumps away in fright-- 

_ But don’t worry~ we will have time for all your questions~ plenty of time~ _

Natsume’s eyes widen as the wind suddenly picks up, spiralling around the clearing like a cyclone, tearing through the grass and scattering leaves into the air. He stumbles as there’s something like a solid push to his back that sends him tumbling forward into the dirt-- and over the line of Natori’s ward.

Natsume can see the piercing light of Madara’s attack from the corner of his eye, and hear Natori shouting nearby, but before he can get his feet back under him, the child-stealing yokai’s gale picks up again. It forms an almost physical pressure across Natsume’s chest as it drags him up and backward, away from the clearing and deep into the woods.

The darkness closes in around him.


	2. Chapter 2

When Natsume opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the starry night sky above him, slightly covered by sparse tree top canopies. He sits up with some difficulty, as it pulls on scrapes on his arms and bruises along his chest and back. That’s when he realizes that what he’s laying on isn’t dirt and leaf litter, but hard, cold stone.

Natsume looks around and realizes that he’s sitting in the middle of what must have been a building at some point, the flooring the only thing left intact besides parts of four stone walls. The roof is completely missing.

Just as Natsume is contemplating standing, a breeze ruffles his hair and sends his fringe into his eyes as he raises a hand to protect his face. By the time he lowers it again, he’s no longer alone.

The yokai has taken the form of a woman with a long white dress and a torn sunhat. She looms in one of the corners, taller than anyone Natsume has ever seen; if he stood, Natsume had no doubt he’d be shorter by several feet. Her eyes are black, sunken pits, and the smile that cuts across her face reminds him of some of his previous foster-mothers-- sharp and empty, haphazardly pasted on. The figure she cuts blocks the moonlight from hitting him.

_ You’ve awakened~ _ she says, mouth unmoving. 

Natsume straightens up a bit, but doesn’t move to stand, curling up to make himself smaller. It’s a habit he’s mostly broken since he’s moved in with the Fujiwara’s, but it doesn’t seem like a bad idea to seem as unthreatening as possible to this yokai.

“Yes,” he answers, voice steady. “But why am I here?”

Hachishaku takes a long, loping step forward, and Natsume has to fight not to scramble backwards away from her. A single one of her steps has brought her almost directly in front of him.

_ To keep you safe~  _ she says.  _ Away from those that have hurt you~ With me, you will always be safe~ _

Natsume swallows. His heart hammers in his chest, but he keeps his face tranquil with years of practice. “R-really? But I can’t stay with you forever, can I? I have to go back home.”

Hachishaku’s shoulders shake with the force of her laughter, even though she still doesn’t open her mouth. Her chuckles echo in his head in deep pounds, like the beat of a bass drum. 

_ You have no home~ _ she responds, confident and sure.  _ Only pain~ I can see it, through your mind’s eye~ family after family, but no love~ house after house, but no home~ only tear after tear, hurt after hurt, hit after hit~ stay with me, and you will know peace~ _

Natsume’s world tilts, until it seems as though there is nothing but him and Hachishaku. His palms sweat from where they’re curled up between his legs and his chest. The yokai’s eyes are like a void that Natsume can’t look away from. His vision tunnels, ears ringing, and--

The despair comes. It’s a feeling that Natsume knows like an old friend-- memories of sobbing on the steps of old shrines and under the covers of his futon, desperately trying to keep quiet so no one will hear. Disgusted looks and scoffing voices, staring down at him with disbelief and incredulous anger. The piercing isolation that enveloped his days like a heavy smog, suffocating and endless.

And yet.

It doesn’t hurt. The despair and loneliness and memories flow through him, almost nostalgic in a way, but they’re so far away that they can’t harm him anymore. Diluted by sunny days spent with friends, and understanding, and the love of true parents. It  _ doesn’t hurt _ .

Hachishaku stumbles as Natsume wrenches his gaze away from her eyes. 

“No!” he shouts. The word echoes in the air, torn from his throat. There’s a beat of silence, only filled by his ragged breathing. He says again, softer, “No. I won’t stay with you. I refuse.”

Hachishaku stumbles again as though shoved. Her smile falters for the first time, turning down at the edges unnervingly. Something clicks.

“You can’t keep me forever unless I let you,” Natsume realizes. “That… that’s why you target kids like me. Because you think we have nothing to go back to.”

The yokai let’s out a hiss, high and sharp, like a steaming kettle.  _ Impossible~ you are damaged, child~ I  _ know _ you have nowhere to go back to~  _ **_stay with me~_ **

“No,” Natsume answers. He winces as he pushes himself to his feet, standing tall before her towering form. “What you’re seeing, it’s in the past. I’ve… I’ve moved on.”

_ No...~  _ Hachishaku mutters. She hunches over, long, dark hair hanging down over her face.  _ The scars are still there~ I can see them~ marks on your psyche, deep and long~ stop  _ **_resisting_ ** _ ~ _

“I’m not like the other children you’ve brought here,” Natsume says, firm and gentle and strong, all at once. “Perhaps I was, and perhaps there’s a part of me that always will be, but I don’t need to run away anymore.” 

He smiles, and it’s one of the real ones he’s learned just recently. “There’s nothing for me to run from.”

Hachishaku reaches out with a long, gaunt arm, fingers gnarled and nails sharp and chipped. Natsume doesn’t flinch away. Her hand settles on his forehead, and there’s a series of flashes.

Nishimura and Kitamoto, running alongside him as they attempt to teach him to ride a bike. Laughing without cruelty as he stares into the distance or jumps at nothing or speaks to the air again.

Tanuma, smiling and understanding and watching the shadows of koi fish across his ceiling.

Natori, mysterious and busy, but at the same time caring. Catching him when he fell and protecting him.

Nyanko-sensei, gruff and impatient and withholding. A powerful yokai, but only ever using that power to protect him. The first time he ever slept beside Natsume instead of a couple feet away, warm and breathing on his arm. A heavy, comforting presence when Natsume had once felt so blind and helpless, his sight taken from him; invisible, but still there despite everything.

Touko and Shigeru, still practically strangers and yet smiling so warmly at him from chairs beside his hospital bed, offering him a place to stay only if he wanted it. As if there was a world where he would refuse such open, blatant, rare kindness. The way they have proved to him every day since then how much he’s worth to them.

When his eyes open again, the yokai is gone. The only trace left is a gentle breeze, carrying a voice for the final time.

_ Thank you, for showing me~ _

Then she’s gone. There’s nothing but Natsume, the four crumbling walls, and the feeling of a weight dissolving in his chest. 

A pressure, warm and pleasant around him, like a tender hug.

**oOo**

Natsume is only walking for a few minutes before Madara, in his full yokai form, swoops down from above him and growls heavily, “Natsume! Where is that she-witch? I will show her what happens when she takes what’s mine.”

Natsume just chuckles, stroking a gentle hand down his friend’s snout. Madara’s unique version of concern makes Natsume smile, full and affectionate. “She’s gone, Nyanko-sensei. Passed on. She won’t hurt anyone again.”

Madara eyes him in suspicion, but after a careful sniff and a nudge with a giant nose to make sure his charge is truly unhurt, he disappears in a puff of smoke. A lucky cat once more, Nyanko-sensei bounds up to Natsume’s shoulder. 

“You brat, how do you manage these things,” Nyanko-sensei grumbles. “You can’t just get taken away when you have the Book of Friends, it’ll be a pain to have to find it again if you die.”

Natsume just nods knowingly, then asks, “Where’s Natori?”

Nyanko-sensei snorts in derision. “We split up to search the forest for you. I’ll send up a sign for his little servants so they can find us.”

The symbol on the cat’s forehead brightens, lighting up the night air for a second before fading again.

“How did you get away, brat?” Nyanko-sensei asks while they wait. “You have a good punch for how twiggy your arms are, but that yokai was powerful enough to withstand my blinding light. You shouldn’t have stood a chance.”

Natsume fiddles with the strap of his bag. “She… she was taking kids who were-- unhappy. They were hurt, and she could see it, and she used it to make them stay with her. I suppose in her own way, she thought she was helping, but…”

Nyanko-sensei shifts on Natsume’s shoulder. His claws prick into his shirt just a bit, more of a grounding touch than anything sharp.

“I just showed her that I would be okay,” Natsume finishes.

Nyanko-sensei’s pupils tint green in the moonlight as he cuts a glance at Natsume from the corner of his eye. Natsume feels splayed open beneath that stare-- like he was being seen. Not seen  _ through _ , or judged, just… understood. It was strangely nice.

“Brat,” Nyanko-sensei huffs. Natsume gets what he means.

**oOo**

When Natori finally finds them, Natsume winces at how frantic he looks. His shirt is dusted with dirt and his shoes are muddy. His yokai tattoo skitters along his face, frenzied as though feeling the stress from its host. The moment the exorcist bursts through the trees, he shouts, “Natsume! Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Hiiragi is only a step behind. Her hair is in disarray, and Natsume can feel her gaze on him through her mask. 

“He’s fine, exorcist,” Nyanko-sensei says, hopping down from Natsume’s shoulder. “But I suppose we both could have done our research better. We all know what he encountered was no Aobōzu. Turns out it was a Hachishaku.”

Natori blinks, eyebrows raising. “I’ve never heard of such a yokai.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Nyanko-sensei answers dismissively. “Hachishaku are old and powerful beings. They feed on the souls of lost children, luring them in with kindness before taking them away to ‘protect’ them.”

Natori seems to make a mental note, then asks, “Then how did you get away, Natsume?”

Natsume fidgets for a moment, face hot. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Natori, but the thought of telling him everything that happened with the Hachishaku makes his skin crawl.

“Natsume did your job for you,” Nyanko-sensei interjects, casual as you please. “Managed to get rid of the Hachishaku with his power. We won’t have to worry about it again, right, Natsume?”

Natsume looks at Nyanko-sensei, eyes wide, and they share a glance. Nyanko-sensei’s eyes close partway into two little crescents, smug and content.

“Yes, that’s right,” Natsume says. “She won’t hurt anyone anymore, Natori.”

Natori’s shoulders slump about 3 inches as he sighs like he can finally breathe again. “Alright,” he says, relieved. “Let’s get you out of this forest, then.” 

He sets two careful hands on Natsume’s shoulders and mutters, “You’re freezing.”

“I’m okay,” Natsume reiterates.

Natori takes off his own jacket and tucks it around Natsume’s frame, anyway. The exorcist keeps an arm slung over Natsume’s shoulders as they go back the way they came. Hiiragi is a silent presence on Natori’s other side, and Nyanko-sensei trots as close as he can to Natsume without getting underfoot.

The walk back is warm.

**oOo**

Since it’s now 2:33 in the morning, Natori books them a hotel instead of a train ticket immediately back. Natsume is too exhausted to protest the man spending more money on him. All he wants is to sink into a bed and sleep.

“I got us a suite,” Natori says as he walks back to where Natsume is sitting in one of the plush waiting chairs, Nyanko-sensei curled up in his lap-- Natori made sure the hotel was pet friendly. Natori’s gaze seems to soften as Natsume blinks up at him slowly, struggling to keep his eyes open.

The hotel room is as grand as Natsume had expected, but it’s dark and he’s tired and it’s almost 3 am, so he doesn’t really take the time to admire it as he toes off his shoes at the door. Natori flicks on the lights, then immediately sits down at the table next to the window. He digs through on of his bags, and drags out a first aid kit.

“Can I look at your arms?” Natori asks attentively for all that he’s probably as impatient as Natsume to get to sleep. “Those scrapes look painful.”

Natsume glances down at them, getting a good look for the first time. His palms are crusted over with dried blood, and his fingers sting when he flexes them. The skin is peeled, and now that Natsume is paying attention, even just being exposed to the air bites at the open wounds.

“Oh,” Natsume says. “That’s alright. Scrapes like these usually heal quickly.”

The skin around Natori’s eyes pinch, but his voice is even when he responds, “Yes, well, they’ll heal  _ better _ if we clean and bandage them properly.”

Natsume shrugs and settles down in the chair opposite of Natori, letting the man study his wounded hands. Natori’s bigger ones are gentle as he treats the scrapes with disinfectant, apologizing quietly even though Natsume barely flinches. 

In this light, in this situation, Natori kind of reminds Natsume of Shigeru. Safe and endlessly considerate, measuring every action before doing it to be sure that nothing he did, even accidentally, would hurt.

Natori breaks the silence in a careful voice. “Do you know, now, why I didn’t want to ask you to help me with this?” 

Natsume thinks back, to the way Natori looked that morning, frazzled and windswept, like he’d been agonizing over something for a while. The agitated way he muttered,  _ “You haven’t even heard what I need yet,” _ when Natsume didn’t hesitate to say yes. The way he’d looked when he rushed through the trees and saw Natsume, whole and alive. When his first questions hadn’t been,  _ “What happened to the yokai? Is it gone? _ ” but  _ “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” _

Right now, as Natori bandages his hands with all the care in the world, as though they are mortal wounds and not shallow scrapes.

“I think I do,” Natsume answers. “It’s because we’re friends, right?”

Natori smiles, and it isn’t his sparkly, movie-star grin. It’s softer, lighter, something between friends. “Right.”

**oOo**

“Maybe I’ll visit you again sometime soon,” Natori says as they stop outside of the Fujiwara residence. The man had insisted on walking Natsume home from the train station, much to Natsume’s annoyance. “I can show you around on the set of my newest movie, maybe show you what I do outside of exorcizing yokai. As thanks for helping me so much.”

Natsume smiles crookedly. “That sounds nice. Thanks for bringing me home.”

“You’re welcome,” Natori answers, giving Natsume’s dusty blond hair a pat. “I’ll see you soon.”

Natori looks down to Nyanko-sensei, standing at Natsume’s feet. “And you. Keep a better eye on this one.”

Nyanko-sensei snorts, turning around in a huff. “Don’t tell me how to do my job, exorcist.”

Natsume chuckles and waves as he walks through the gate. “Bye, Natori.”

As Natsume walks through the front door, Nyanko-sensei slipping through first, he toes off his shoes to the quiet hum of Shigeru’s deep voice and the smell of breakfast. He can hear Touko in the kitchen, voice light and comforting and filling the house like warm sunshine.

Natsume smiles, and announces, “I’m home.”


End file.
